


Flower Band-Aids

by midnightskydan



Series: Agere Fics [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 11:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightskydan/pseuds/midnightskydan
Summary: In which Dan relapses, and, once he realizes what he’s done, gets so scared he slips and regresses.





	Flower Band-Aids

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: graphic descriptions of self-harm, relapse, self-hating thoughts, implied depression, dan calls phil 'daddy'
> 
> Please be safe while reading.

Dan stared at the bathroom door, leaning against the wall in the hallway. He was so tempted to just walk into the bathroom, find his hidden blade, and watch his skin fall apart beneath his touch. His eyes hurt as he held back tears. He just felt so fucking _sad. _But he was clean, he hadn’t done it in forever, but at the moment it felt like the only thing that could make him feel something, _anything _but this overwhelming sadness.

He should go to Phil. Phil always told him to go to him if he felt the urge again. But he couldn’t. He always went to Phil with his annoying problems and his messed up mind, and Phil didn’t deserve it. God, Phil deserved so much better. Dan was such a burden. He needed to hurt. He deserved to hurt.

Dan took in a sharp breath and ran through the bathroom door, locking it behind him. He stared at the mirror. His hair was messy, his eyes red from crying. He needed to do it.

He sunk to his knees and opened the cabinet beneath the sink, finding his small blade stuck into a crack in the wood in the very back. He pulled it out and sat on the closed toilet, pulling off his jacket and looking down at the faded scars on his wrists. He took in a breath, tears gathering in his eyes.

Before he could process what he was doing, he found himself pressing the blade into his right arm and pulling it quickly back. It was sick how fascinated by the feeling and sight he was. He did it again. And again. And again and again andagainandagain.

He finally stopped to breathe and looked down at his arm, the pain hitting him at full force. His eyes widened. Oh god. He’d relapsed. He’d hurt himself. Oh god, he was bleeding all over. He dropped the blade.

Tears gathered in his eyes and he felt so confused and scared, and then he was slipping. He wasn’t thinking straight anymore and he was tearing up, and he felt so vulnerable and small and scared. He recognized the feeling a moment too late. He was regressed.

Dan bit his wobbling lip, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. He was bleeding, and it hurt, and Dan was scared. What should he do? He didn’t know what to do. There was blood and he wanted it to stop!

He sniffled. Daddy would know what to do. He needed to get his daddy.

“Daddy!” Dan cried, sniffling. He held a hand over one of the worse cuts as he stood and walked out of the bathroom. “Daddy?” he called, trying to speak loudly over his tears.

Phil sat up, setting aside his book as he heard Dan’s voice. Dan was calling for him, and he was calling him ‘daddy.’ Shit. Dan must’ve slipped into little space somehow. Dan hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to be little all day, and it was usually a gradual slip. If he had slipped this quickly, something must’ve sent him into little space.

“Daddy?” Dan called again, and he sounded like he was crying.

Phil rushed to his feet, jogging down the hall and finding Dan outside of the bathroom, dripping blood onto the carpet and crying.

“Dan?” Phil asked, eyes widening.

“Daddy,” he murmured pitifully when he saw Phil there.

Phil’s throat closed up when he saw Dan’s arm, messy with blood. “Oh, Dan. Oh my god, what did you do?” he asked, rushing toward Dan.

Dan sobbed. “M'sorry,” he cried, glancing down at his arm and letting out a sob. “Hurts,” he whimpered.

“Shit. Okay, okay, Dan, it’s okay. Come on, let’s sit you down back in the bathroom okay?” Phil spoke, sounding a bit ramble-y.

Dan sniffled, walking back into the bathroom. “It hurts, daddy,” he cried as he sat down on the toilet. Phil grabbed the nearest not-white towel he could find and wet it in the sink.

“I know baby, I know,” Phil replied softly. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, yeah?” He tried to ignore the clenching feeling in his throat at the fact that Dan had felt the need to self-harm again and hadn’t come to him.

“What happened, sweetheart?” Phil asked gently, swallowing his own emotion, ringing the towel in the sink.

“I-I was big, n’ I felt sad, n’ I don’t know why but I…” Dan sobbed. “An’ then it was so scary!”

“Shhh,” Phil murmured, and he kneeled in front of Dan. “You’re okay now. I’m here,” he promised, and he gently pulled Dan’s hand away from his arm, inspecting the thin, bloody, cuts. A few were rather deep, though not so much so that they’d warrant stitches, thankfully. An ER visit when Dan was this upset and small would be a nightmare for him. and Phil bit his lip as he brought the wet cloth to gently wipe away the blood. He knew they were mostly superficial, that they’d heal and add just a few more scars to Dan’s arm, but anxiety still curled in his stomach as he dabbed at the wounds. Dan whimpered pathetically, and Phil sent him an apologetic look. “It’s okay baby,” he promised. “Daddy’ll make it better.”

Dan seemed to ease up a bit at those words. He sniffled, trying not to look at his bloody hand and arm, wincing when the cloth rubbed over his broken skin. “I’m sorry daddy, m'sorry,” he cried, knowing even in his small mindset that Phil always got sad when Dan hurt himself.

“It’s okay, bear,” Phil assured. “I love you,” he spoke, kissing Dan on the cheek as he pulled the cloth away, Dan’s arm somewhat cleaned up. “You want some of the pretty band-aids? The flower ones?”

Dan smiled the smallest bit through his tears. “Mhm,” he replied, sniffling.

Phil dug through the cupboard, finding the yellow bandaids with various flowers on them. He knelt in front of Dan again and gently moved Dan’s chin up as Dan went to glance at his cuts again. Dan sniffled, looking at Phil.

Soon, Dan’s cuts were concealed beneath many long-ways yellow bandages. Dan sniffled, looking down at them. “Pretty?” he asked.

“Very pretty,” Phil promised. “But, I don’t want my pretty little boy to be hurting, okay?” he spoke seriously.

Dan sniffled. “M'sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Dan,” Phil said, “You just have to promise me that you’ll let me help you before you hurt yourself. Or if you don’t want to talk to me, that you’ll find something else to do. Remember when we drew pretty pictures on your arms? You could do that instead,” Phil spoke.

“Okay,” Dan replied quietly. “I pwomise.”

“Pinky promise?” Phil asked, extending his pinky.

Dan smiled a little and locked his pinky with Phil’s. “Pinky promise,” he said.

“I love you so much, little one,” Phil said gently, cupping Dan’s cheek, thumb stroking over his damp cheek.

Dan sniffled. “I love you too,” he said.

Phil smiled a little. “Okay then,” he said, “Let’s go watch some funny cartoons or play a game, and we don’t have to be sad anymore hm? If you’re very good, daddy might even let you eat some of those big marshmallows, hm? Well if a certain…marshmallow goblin hasn’t already eaten them, that is?”

“Daddy! You ate them?” Dan exclaimed, giggling.

“No! The marshmallow goblin did!” Phil argued.

“Daddyyy,” Dan whined, pouting.

“It’s okay, we have more, I promise,” Phil said.

Dan giggled. “You’re a meanie,” he said.

Phil gasped. “I can’t believe you would call me that. It was the marshmallow goblin!”

Dan giggled. “You are! You’re the marshmallow goblin!”

Phil frowned. “Alright, you’re too smart for me.”

Dan giggled. “Mhm! Can’t fool me!”

Phil smiled. “I guess I can’t,” he said, sighing. “But you know what?”

“What?” Dan asked, still smiling.

“I may be the marshmallow goblin, but did you know that I’m also the tickle monster?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dan shrieked, jumping to his feet and running past Phil. “Daddy!” he cried, as Phil chased him down the hallway, finally tackling him gently onto the couch in the lounge and gently ran his fingers over Dan’s tummy. Dan shrieked out giggled.

“Daddy! No!” He laughed loudly. “Daddyyy!! You’re a meanie!!”

“Okay okay,” Phil said, relenting, smiling down at Dan. “I’m gonna go see if I can find where the marshmallow goblin hid the treats.”

Dan giggled, sitting up. “Can you put on a show first, daddy?” Dan asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Of course baby,” Phil promised, pleased that Dan was smiling now.

He put on a cartoon for Dan, leaving to raid his secret candy stash for some sweets for Dan. He would cuddle with Dan and let him eat too many sweets. And when Dan was big again, they’d talk about what happened. They’d revisit his plan. But for now, he let Dan hide his hurties under a fluffy jumper and they laughed and watched shows, and everything was good. Phil knew that one relapse didn’t erase the enormous amount of progress Dan had made, and in his regressed mindset Dan could feel safe and taken care for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> send agere prompts over at [@onesiecloset](https://onesiecloset.tumblr.com/ask) on tumblr !


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